Latest Fieldnotes

Visited 23.1.11
I stumbled upon this Cairn whilst walking between Y Pigwrn Roman camps and the nearby stone circles. It is about 5 metres across and 1 metre high. Quite easy to spot as covered in low green grass amid the yellowing surrounding grass at this time of year. I didn’t know about this Cairn beforehand so it came as a pleasant surprise!
I have since found an entry for it on the Megalithic website.

Another afternoon visit, this, following a drizzly morning at Ballina’s ‘Dolmen of the Four Maols’... well, you can’t stay in a city and not venture out on foot to see the local sights, can you? Anyway, that done, a drive-about Co. Mayo, taking in Castlebar and Bemullet (Beal an Mhuirthead, that is) just happens to provide an opportunity to stop off at another prehstoric monument. Strange, that.

Heading back on the R314 to Ballina, the coastal loop at Barnatra is a worthwhile diversion for travellers with a little time – and the inclination – to experience something a tad out of the ordinary. After a while the minor road passes through the tiny ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ settlement of Dooncarton, nestling between the sea and a large, transmitter-bearing hill. Assuming you haven’t – blinked, that is – park-up and seek out the ‘West Coast B&B’ (oops, little bit of product placement there), above which, unseen, sits an excellent little stone circle. Access is via an uphill road beside the B&B and a subsequent step over a barbed wire fence. Well, this is Ireland, after all.

The siting is glorious, featuring superb coastal views – across sandbanks – to Garter Hill to the north, and the exquisite Sruwaddacon Bay to the east. Sure, the proximity of habitation does detract from the wild, untamed vibe a touch, but, strangely enough, engenders a feeling that the monument remains relevant, part of the community still. Perhaps that’s just wishful thinking?... The orthostats are substantial for a stone circle of these modest dimensions, lovely and unkempt, almost as if they have always been here. Come to think of it – to all intents and purposes – they have! Right on! I wish I had more than an hour to enjoy an extended ‘hang’ at this wonderful spot... but such is life. Having said that, Dooncarton’s obscure, shy little stone circle is now a part of mine. And I’m glad. I think we complemented each other for a few moments in time.

All is not rosy in Dooncarton, however, since a proliferation of ‘anti-Shell’ posters are visible upon telegraph posts as we drive above the – it has to be said – frankly gorgeous bay. Yeah, by all accounts big business is looking to develop this beautiful coastline. There are always two sides to every story, true... but...here? Somehow, though, I’ve the feeling Dooncarton’s little ring will remain aloof regardless. Seen it, done it, whatever.

29.1.2011. It’s been a long trek over trackless hillsides from Nant Tarw. I’ve crossed a number of streams, frozen solid in their tracks and broken the crust of ice on the ever-present bogs. The bulk of Fan Brycheiniog and Picws Du has loomed over me for most of the way, lit from behind in ghostly penumbral halo. But now the mountains are blocked from sight and I’m finally rewarded with a first glimpse of the block of Maen Mawr. From then on, the step quickens, the heart beats faster and the anticipation levels soar. There are plenty of cars parked up on the road, but thankfully no-one else is visiting the stones as I approach.

This is my second visit here, the sub-zero temperatures a marked contrast to the warm June day last summer when I first came. A swirl of ice surrounds Maen Mawr’s foot, and the circle itself is frozen hard, starkly outlined in the late winter sun. The view down the Tawe valley fades into the blue.

It is hard to describe the pleasure that coming back to this lovely circle brings. The sun shines on, and all is well with the world. Reaffirmed, I head off on the long way home.

Needing to travel from Donegal to Mullingar – as you do – the opportunity to visit this Fermanagh beauty cannot be overlooked. Indeed not. Might be the only time I pass this way, after all. The journey is no hardship, the N3, spontaneously morphing into the A46 at Belleek, following the southern flank of the beautiful Lower Lough Erne all the way to Enniskillen. Only the familiarity of the latter name – and, ok, a heavilly defended police station – reminds the traveller of the all too recent brutal history of the area. A detour along the A4 takes us to Belcoo, a small town right on the border between the upper and lower Lough Macneans, from where a road signposted ‘Boho Scenic Route’ climbs northwards towards the Ballintempo Forest. Forking right to approach Dooletter, a dead end road a little way before – apparently once signposted – heads left to a forestry track crossroads barred by a locked barrier. Time to revert to the Mark 1 boot, then.

We head straight ahead initially before veering right to locate a quite wonderful court tomb – quite bizarrely signposted from the track here, but nowhere else (methinks the locals have been playing ‘silly buggers’) – set upon a somewhat restricted hillside terrace beside forestry. It is immediately apparent that Aghanaglack is a special site. It is a type of ‘double’ court tomb known as a dual court, whereby two monuments are, in effect, placed back to back to form a composite whole. Here, however, there is nothing remotely ‘composite’ about the resulting structure, the eastern ‘half’ being of (charmingly, I think) inferior build quality... far less substantial than its western counterpart. Whatever for?

Both phases of the monument – I understand that an 1938 excavation determined that, surprise, surprise, the eastern segment was a later addition – consist of a shallow forecourt allowing access to a gallery of two linear chambers, now open to the elements. Interestingly, the western entrance was closed – apparently symbolically since the blocking stone was only of modest height. Perhaps when the ‘other half’ took over? The author Carleton Jones, in his excellent book ‘Temples of Stone’ [ISBN 13: 9781905172054] has hypothesised that Aghanaglack may have witnessed two social groups merging together... no doubt to a chorus of ‘these youngsters don’t make ‘em like they used to in my day, so they don’t...’ Also worthy of note is the landscape setting chosen for the (presumably) original western monument, the restricted nature of the terrace not leaving sufficient space to complete the northern flank of the court ‘arm’ without quarrying away bedrock. This, curiously, was not undertaken.

Confusing, intriguing, down right barmy, even. What were the builders of Aghanalack ‘on’ when they erected this idiosyncratic monument? So full of human imperfections, and incidentally boasting superb, sweeping views south to Dooletter Lough and north-east to Boho, a visit here is infinitely rewarding precisely because of the all prevailing sense of ‘humanity’. It is a ball-up, true, but a gloriously uplifting one. Marvellous.

The morning ends in frustration – an occasional ‘occupational’ hazard for those who attempt to locate rural prehistoric monuments, particularly here in Ireland. The veritable maze of country lanes around Bunnyconnellan may keep the Carrowcrom wedge tomb from my reverential gaze, but the fine countryside at the south western end of the Ox Mountains affords some compensation. Perhaps I may be able to find the apparently excellent Rathlackan court tomb, then? As Harry Hill says, ‘there’s only one way to find out!‘

Heading for Killala – the town incidentally possessing a most excellent example of those pencil-thin Irish round towers – we stop off for lunch at Lackan Strand. It was here, at this fine beach, that the (apparently) not overly competent General Humbert landed to provide French, er, ‘support’ for The United Irishmen’s doomed rebellion of 1798. But, hey, that was only yesterday. What of the court tomb which has presided over this landscape for millennia? To be honest it is easilly found... luckily, he says... head for the Lackan United playing fields (are they any good?), park up a little way beyond and take a rough track towards the coast; the monument does its best to remain incognito to the left a little way down. Yeah, barely rising above the surrounding bog, perhaps this explains why it is in such a superb state of preservation....one of the finest I’ve seen to date, in fact. Out of sight is out of mind?

Rathlackan will never win any prizes for self promotion in today’s world of ‘package experiences’ and holidays under geodesic domes – no doubt quite the opposite to what its architects envisaged. But it could very well do so for quality of archeaology. Set within (what I believe to be) a modern, walled enclosure, a virtually intact court gives access to a gallery subdivided into three, linear chambers, each defined by large, protruding jamb stones. Courses of original drystone can still be discerned resting on top of the chamber orthostats, the capstones, moved to one side, allowing wild flowers to flourish where once there was darkness. The interior is waterlogged, as you might expect; nevertheless the surviving cairn material provides an excellent perch to enjoy the sweeping coastal views – albeit somewhat curtailed by forestry in places.

In short, Rathlackan is a seriously good, no, great court tomb. Don’t hold this portion of Mayo. This sleeping beauty deserves your attention. Just don’t talk too loudly...... although an occasional ‘Lackan United!’ may well float on the breeze.

Hurried past on 29.1.2011, on my way from Nant Tarw to Cerrig Duon. The southern cairn is further up the slopes of Garn Las than the northern, which was out of sight.

Looks like a descent sized, but much disturbed, upland cairn. The land drops away to the north from the cairn.

Several weeks ago taking the Work road I saw one or more folk [bobble-hatted] acting suspiciously over on the scheduled monument with some kind of structure on top with them. They were still there when I turned back, the light starting to fade. Last week I finally went to the headland and a new profile was very evident, the long cairn with the round cairn above that and then a new pimple.on top. Once there I could see that someone had been messing with the recorded chamber and the ‘structure’ was the pimple. This profile results from a rigid stacking of the stone slabs above the back of the chamber, though I cannot tell if this includes slabs that were within the chamber before. I know that snow causes damage but the north side may have been investigated too, to a lesser extent, as amongst other things there is an enlarged/new exposure. Hopefully the visitors were either here only a day or are following some official program.

Eric and me descended the steep side of Fin cop hand in hand (he’s not good with heights bless him), just heading for an old tree by the river, if I managed to find Hobs cave it would have to be by chance, my map was no help, google earth wont let me play, so chance would have to be my only allie, it came up trumps too.
Away to our right I spied some interesting looking rocks and knowing Eric likes a good scramble we mozied over.
The oppresion I’d felt above in the hillfort was easing up now, and I felt this was a good place and that Hob where ever he is nowadays (some say Northumberland) he didnt mind our encroachment , and when I found the cave and the manner I found it, I felt almost welcome.
I was wandering amongst the rock stacks stumbling as I gauped around, there are some thin passageways through the rocks reminding me of the Wadi that leads to the treasury at Petra, well we came out of the rock stacks and there right in front of us was this cave mouth, I looked down at Eric and said “this way Indy”

Upon reaching the tall thin cave I turned around to survey the vista, and over to our left was this obvious man shape looking skyward, even the lad pointed it out, this must surely be the demigod himself,I silently said hello and entered his mansion.
The cave is no more than three feet wide but as much as thirty feet high, was the rock man recognised as Hob before the cave became his house ?because its not very roomy exept upward.
Just inside the entrance some large boulders have fallen almost blocking egress to the rear of the fissure, Eric could get under but I opted for over then drop down, we then scuttled as far as we could, all this by camera flashlight only, eventually eric called for a return to sunlight, but strangely I liked it in the cave more than up on the hillfort.
We laughed and joked about poo dodging mostly all the way down to the river, where we sat by the weir and watched a Dipper going about his wintery tasks, then oppresive feelings forgotten we made our tired way back up to the carpark.

Interestingly this fort is now listed as a quarry by the RCAHMS, having previously been designated a fort and marked on the OS map as such.

At the west end of the fort a small amount of quarrying has taken place, but it seems quite clear that this place is a fort.

Seaton Law is a rocky outcrop on a ridge that is a continuation of the Garleton Hills to the west. Although the fort is only slightly raised above the immediately surrounding land, it offers a 360 degree view over the area. Traprain Law and Berwick Law are both visible.

With the bigger fort of Kae Heughs further to the west it may be that Seaton Law was built as an outpost to offer an extra dimension of defence from an attack along the ridge.

The approach to the fort from the east slopes gradually and is steeper than it first appears. The top of the fort is wide and flat, covered in tussocks of grass which make it difficult to identify any features below.

At the west end of the fort there appears to be a section cut off from the main body of the fort by what may be a wide ditch. However since this is the end affected by quarrying, the depression may be associated with that rather than representing a true ditch.

Bruvvs describes Fin cop as a fabulous place, he in my opinion was only half right, it is indeed a place, but as to it’s fabulousness I can not attest.
Ive never really felt at home in the Peak district, even though its the only national park that is in my home county. (just a small bit) I get an oppressive feeling from the place, as if it doesnt really want me poking around. I know it’s just me, I just can’t help it.
From the 150 place car park, we headed to Hobbs cafe and took the high path way above the river wye heading directly for the highest point, this I hoped was the hillfort, my map is strangely rubbed free of detail right on the bit we need, (probably accounts for my delay in getting here), apart from being on the wrong side of the wall, it was the right path.
The entrance and defences on either side of it are still in pretty good shape, though the fenced off excavation scars are a tadd ugly, will they be back soon?
We followed the earthworks over the well made drystone wall, (though presumably not as good as Stonegloves) but in this field the defences are not very defending anymore, but recognisable all the way to the edge of the steeeeep hilside.
We then followed the hillsde round and dropped down to the river via Hobbs cave.

Visited 29.1.11
As its Dafydd’s birthday next week and there was quite a bit of ‘pre-party’ preparation to be done I was confined to a ‘local visit’ this week. This gave me the chance to re-visit a site less than 10 miles from home. See previous notes for directions.
The last time I visited it was in the summer with vegetation high so it was not so easy to spot the ramparts/ditches etc. No problem with that this time of year although on the negative side it was bitterly cold, with a biting wind and the ground frozen underneath. The lovely Karen wisely decided to stay in the car with the sleeping Dafydd and little Sophie.
Going through the kissing gate I noticed a sign stating that this was an ancient site and that (amongst other things) there was to be no littering or fires. Unfortunately it appears that some of the local inhabitants are unable to read as this has been ignored. Since the turn of the year I have taken a plastic bag out with me to pick up any litter I see at sites but I would have needed a skip to clear this amount of rubbish! Why do people do this? I also saw evidence of at least two fires.
Anyway, onto more positive things. There are at least three banks/ditches, all of whom are well above head height (when standing in the ditch) and these were very easily seen due to the fallen ferns/bracken. The central part of the site appears to be a raised area? There are unexpectedly cracking views to be had up the Sirhowy Valley to the north and Twmbarlwm Hillfort easily seen on the nearby hilltop.
After 20 minutes or so I retreated back to the car to escape the cold wind. All in all, a nice little visit but I wish some people would take more care / pride of their heritage.

29.1.2011. After the walk from Blaenau Uchaf along the “processional route” of the valley, passing wild ponies and frozen streams aplenty, I reach the easternmost of two circles at Nant Tarw. Wow! My heart sings with an overwhelming feeling of elation as I arrive. The walk from Crai Reservoir had sapped me, taking far longer than I expected – although partly restored by the lovely Blaenau Uchaf stone, it is only as I reach the first circle that I truly feel at one with the world again.

I must have just about the most perfect conditions for this visit. The sky is blue and the ground is frozen hard, meaning that what would normally be a wet and boggy crossing of open hillsides is actually very easy. The grass is also very low, making the diminuitive stones of the circles much easier to see.

Even though the stones are tiny, and many are missing, this place is a joy. I rush around taking pictures, which almost freezes my ungloved fingers off. But a cup of tea later and I’m raring to go. Both circles are beautiful, evocative rings, in a wild and remote spot that even most of the ardent Burl-enthusiasts may be unfamiliar with. Then I pop across thankfully frozen bog to the three stone setting. Suddenly, from out of the sun and an big bank of cloud, the enormous bulk of Y Mynydd Du appears. Good grief. The breath is almost knocked from me at the sight – I knew the mountains were visible from here, but because they had been hidden, the sudden appearance is a real shock.

I love it here. To quote Mr Tennant, I feel like taking all my clothes off and dancing to The Rite of Spring. But it’s too cold and I might upset the ponies, so I content myself with sitting here in awe, literally chilling out. I have to come back here with more time, that’s for certain. It seems criminal to have come to this spot, only to rush off again.

But a sobering look at the map tells me that I have 5 miles of trackless, open hillsides and plentiful streams and springs to cross if I’m going to get back to the road in time for a bus, let alone if I want to stop off at Maen Mawr and Cerrig Duon on the way. So I head south, at speed.

Visited 29.1.2011. The bus dropped me next to Crai Reservoir, and the five miles from there to here took forever, meaning that I’m panicking a bit as times are tight to get back for the last bus at Glyntawe. Still, the sun is shining and it’s a beautiful day as I cross the stream at Blaenau Ichaf – “Highest Summits” – and head uphill along the bridleway that will take me towards Nant Tarw. The path climbs upwards and then, wonderfully, the stone is visible on the crest to the left. The sense of panic drains away as I cross the frozen field to the stone. This is, after all, what it’s all about and why I put myself through these early mornings.

It’s a neat block, slightly taller than it is wide, packed at its base by a load of small stones. It sits overlooking a valley running west-east, and the most expansive views are to the NE, away from the daunting (but out of sight) Camarthen Fans/Y Mynydd Du. The countryside stretches away across fertile farmland and impenetrable conifer forest.

Next to the stone is a recumbent, pointed slab, which would be a similar height to its companion if it were erect. I’m not aware of that many paired stones in this part of South Wales. It’s too cold to stop for long, and my bus-related worries are starting to resurface at the back of my mind, so I press on past the inquisitive sheep that have overcome their initial alarm and are now wondering what the sais is doing in their field.

I rejoin the bridleway and continue west. A couple of hundred yards further, as I climb a slight bank to avoid a muddy-looking patch, I see another very similar (albeit smaller) moss-covered limestone block protruding from the bank to my left. It could be natural, but I am wondering if a route is being marked out before me, towards the twin circles at Nant Tarw. Hmm.

A few yards further on, and another possible stone sticks out from the bank. Is it part of an old wall? A natural feature? I don’t know.

The bridleway passes into Access Land and opens out into grassy slopes on either side. A low bank runs alongside on my right, clearly not natural but probably the remains of an old field boundary. Next to it, right in my path (and not incorporated into the bank) is another low, square-ish block. This one could easily be a natural feature, but by this time I’m seeing a processional way taking me to the circle!

However, I’m now approaching the Nant Tarw brook, for which the stone circles are named, and head off the bridleway upslope to avoid the wetter valley floor. Perhaps another time, with more time, I should go back in search of any more possibles for this waymarked route.

[I notice when I get back and look at TMA, postie has posted a picture of another low block alongside the Nant Tarw, near the circles themselves. My suspicions are well and truly awakened...]

Invershin Farm stone is clearly visible from the A837, looking towards the river. I wonder how many people spot it as they drive North from Bonar Bridge to the locally famous tourist attraction, the Falls of Shin? If driving here, there are a few limited gateways to pull into to park, but perhaps to avoid blocking any farmers access it’s best to use the rough lay-by outside the local burial ground, or the car park of the local village hall, both of which are only a minute or two’s extra walk back along the road.

From the road the stone appears quite small, but up close it measures around 5’5”. The stone features strong vertical striations, and a rather beautiful streak of quartz which is visible diagonally across both faces. It has a slight lean to the Eastern side. To the South is a low “hog backed stone” (as described by Canmore), and there are several other small rocks around the base. The ground was rather stubbly and ‘lumpy’ at the time of visiting, so it was hard to tell if there were further small rocks in the area. The general area is a low river valley, cupped by hills on three sides.

On walking back to the car a different route, across the fields, I noticed a small stone that just looked ‘odd’ for some reason, placed rather than natural – but could have been simply wishful thinking. It’s not recorded anywhere so far as I can find. Have included photo’s here for interest…

The fine, partially restored court tomb of Cloghanmore is a fitting companion site to the nearby half dozen assemblage of portal tombs at Malin More. The monument lies beside the moorland road to Lough Auva in the shadow – or at least that would be the case if the sun was out – of the large 427m hill of Leahan. Seems everything is substantially constructed in these parts, whether by the unerring forces of nature honed over countless millennia, or by the comparatively recent hand of humankind.

Cloghanmore is a case in point, a major tomb in every respect, not least with regards its size. Approached from the aforementioned moorland road, however, the initial portents of a visit are perhaps not the best.... a small car park, not far from the tourist woollen mill, gives access to a bridge across a small stream, whereby a concrete path leads across boggy ground towards the site. Ah, one for the half interested tourist then? Well yes and no... for although access is straightforward, the monument itself is – judging by conditions underfoot – liable to flood somewhat and lacks the towering profile of a portal tomb to excite the more limited imagination, shall we say? Hence the couple of visitors who do join us do not linger past the few obligatory snaps for the ‘folks back home’. More fool them, since what Cloghanmore lacks in profile it more than compensates for in sheer extent of court area and interesting architectural detail.

The court itself is almost completely enclosed by boldly projecting ‘arms’, the latter just failing to meet and thus allowing access at that point. Furthermore, small subsiduary chambers (with capstone) are located within the drystone masonry – a feature I have not seen before. The two main burial chambers – or galleries – are located to the west and are of more standard construction. One still retains a capstone, a fine place to sit and contemplate the original role of several enigmatic stones located within the court itself.

Yeah, it has been an enlightening day. Whatever reconstruction has been undertaken at Cloughanmore was clearly performed by similarly enlightened people in a tasteful, unobtrusive manner, thus leaving the aura at this great, slumbering, beguiling tomb intact. Not to mention ensuring the traveller is able to grasp just what a major Irish court tomb should look like. Do not be put off by the apparent ‘show site’ vibe. There is much more to this site than that.

West of Killybegs – apparently Ireland’s ‘premier fishing port’, no less – lies a wild, sparsely populated area known as the Slieve League Peninsular... named after a mountain range possessing (arguably) the highest sea cliffs in all Europe. Although there are few settlements of any size to visit today, the proliferation of megalithic tombs to be found in the locality would strongly suggest that, relatively speaking, this was certainly no prehistoric ‘backwater’. Oh no.

Like a child before the sweetie counter, palms sweating through tightly grasped coins, it’s difficult to know where to start. The fantastic ‘two for the price of one’ tombs of Croaghbeg and Shalwy get the initial verdict on a split points decision. A difficult act to follow, it has to be said. Nevertheless we continue along the R263 towards the road’s near terminus at Malin More, a small cluster of houses set below the western extremity of the aforementioned Slieve League. Although the coastal scenery is exquisite, Malin More is unpretentious almost to the point of submission. No doubt the inhabitants have no wish to engender the wrath of the winter storms through ostentatious display? So it come as a major surprise to find that this little settlement could well be the case study to prove the maxim ‘appearances can be deceptive’. Aye, ‘tis true.... standing in an east-west alignment beside a minor farm road stand (at least) six – count ‘em – portal tombs!

Granted, none of the half dozen monuments is a classic specimen of the type in itself, each sadly having suffered structurally – to a greater or lesser extent – across the millenia. But there are SIX of them! Something I’ve never encountered before.... and probably will never again. Are there any other comparable groups? Dunno. The best preserved – and thus showpiece – tomb of Malin More’s collection is a gigantic edifice of the ‘two-tiered, double capstone’ type, a design perhaps best exemplified at Knockeen, Co. Waterford. Although the main chamber’s massive capstone now rests upon the turf – having slipped from its supporting orthostats some time in antiquity – the secondary example remains in situ, a beautiful slab of shining quartzite. Nice. A little Irish frog, clearly with no qualms concerning the tombs current stability, nevertheless makes a leap for freedom as we enter. Wisely, I think. You know what these clumsy English tourists are like?

So what of the other portal tombs, then? Well, that nearest the farm house is also in pretty good nick... although taking a full on picture of someone’s home didn’t seem right... at the time. Wish I had now, but there you are. The others have fared less well, but can nonetheless still be traced and appreciated within the farmer’s fields. And... well, two out of six ‘aint bad... to paraphrase Mr Meat Loaf himself. Can’t argue with that as we prepare to leave Malin More to revel once again in its obscurity. Especially since the fine court tomb of Cloghanmore lies close at hand....

Starting from the small car park by Oliver’s Castle we headed right along a trackway towards King’s Play Hill and long barrow. A typical January day, chilly with a hint of rain in the air but it was a pleasure be out on the Wiltshire Downs again. A round barrow sits on the crest of King’s Play Hill, to get to it we did a back shuffle under a barbed wire fence (a first for me) to come upon an amazing almost sheer drop on the other side of the hill – made negotiable only by the tiers of sheep tracks.

My walking friend, being a keen map-reader, pointed out the long barrow, although not very prominent, sat just below the crest of the hill – where we had just come from on the other side of the barbed wire, so back we went to take a closer look. From where we were standing we could also see the round barrows in the distance on the highest point of Furze Knoll near Morgan’s Hill.

Ultimately, we were heading for the village of Heddington to pick up the track at the bottom of Roundway Down back to Oliver’s Castle so it was under the barbed wire again to make our way downhill along the sheep tracks. This is when the astonishing hillocks that Rhiannon mentions in her fieldnote came into view – similar to the ones near Oliver’s Castle but far more ridged (see photo).

Once on lower ground our way became very muddy; at one point we had to pass through liquified mud by a farmyard near Heddington. A farm worker directed us to the path ‘up on the left’. I looked up and heard my horrified voice say “But there’s a dead cow lying there”.
Farm worker: “Yes, she dropped dead yesterday.” Horrified Voice: “Oh ... what are you going to do with her.”
Farm Worker: “The hunt will have for the hounds”. For a townie out walking, this is one of the unpalatable realities of country life.

In the grounds of Tallaght Priory, beside the Friar’s Walk, you will need to get permission to visit these stones.

I was surprised by the size of the bullaun stone having only seen close-up photographs with no idea of scale. It’s an irregular shape conglomerate, maybe roughly two thirds of a metre squarish. The bullaun is about 20 cms wide and 15 cms deep.

Beside it is a stone described by Patrick Healy in All Roads Lead to Tallaght (South Dublin Libraries) as: “…a large granite stone with a hole through it. The hole is narrower at the ends and in the middle, somewhat like an hourglass, but is now screw-threaded as stated by O’Curry. Beside the hole is a round hollow.”

I was kindly brought here by Brother Michael. Thanks.

Visited 23.1.11
It was with much relief I actually managed to find this site!
I hadn’t done as much preparation as I should have and expected to be able to drive along the track right up to the Roman camps and then a short walk to the stone circles – wrong! Instead I had to park a mile away, where the tarmac ends, and carry Dafydd the rest of the way. He is nearly three and quite a lump to have to carry that far along an ice bound, rutted track! (Apparently he will happily walk for his mother but seems to lose the use of his legs when out with me!)
Anyway, along the track we went and I decided to head straight for the Roman camps and find the stone circles from there. The O/S map show a footpath to the stones but don’t be fooled, there isn’t one – just open, bleak moorland.
It took me about half hour to walk/carry Dafydd to the Roman camp and I was hoping to be able to spot the stone circles from the top of the ramparts, but I couldn’t. We did however see 10 (presumably wild) horses grazing along the ramparts.
Using guess work I headed across the moorland in the general direction where I thought the circles should be and as luck would have it, found them without too much problem. I first spotted a single standing stone (outliner?) and then the smaller circle with the larger stones. I counted 4 standing and 1 fallen.
From here the larger circle (25 smaller stones) is easily seen.
The smaller circle is nice enough but the larger circle is a beauty.
Although the stones are small (no doubt only survived due to the remoteness of the site) they appear to be a complete circle and have great views to the north.
I really liked it here but by now Dafydd was complaining of the cold which was fair enough (after all it is January in the Brecon Beacons!) so we headed back to Karen and Sophie who had wisely decided to stay in the warmth of the car.
It has been a long time since I have visited a stone circle and there really is something special about these types of site, particularly when they are as well preserved as these two circles are. Well worth a visit but be prepared for a long walk and I would recommend wellies in wet weather – the path would be a mud trap.

Easiest approach from Hordron Edge circle is via the shooting track that you took from the A57. If you carry along the contour line from the circle you’ll intersect it as it comes up from the valley. It takes you to a bridge over the beck, which is far easier than routes across the moor suggested elsewhere.

Visited 22/01/11: Walked to Disgwylfa Fawr from a parking spot next to Llyn Syfydrin to the west. This is the shortest & simplest route up (my friend’s 7 year old daughter had no trouble with it).

I’m embarrassed to say this was my first time up Disgwylfa Fawr and it’s hard to imagine why it’s taken me so long to make the journey. The cairn is large and earth-covered with an indentation in the top, presumably from excavation. It’s a nice lump the stand on and the views of the surrounding peaks are splendid (especially Pumlumon and Dinas). Well worth a visit.

Visited 23.1.11
Easy to spot next to the gate with the ‘unsuitable for motor vehicles’ sign.
Also easy to park at this point.
The Barrow is approximately 10 metres round and 1 metre high. It is on the other side of a barbed wire fence so I settled for a view from the roadside.

I viewed this cairn from the side road when going to visit Mitchells Fold stone circle back last year. Coming off the A488 and heading west towards the parking area for the stone circle, the cairn is easy to spot in the field on your left. I had Dafydd with me at the time so it would have been awkward to have taken a closer look.
There is a public footpath which runs right past the cairn.

Cissbury Ring is one of my favourite walking places in West Sussex. Standing on the South Downs and within walking distance of my home town of Worthing it’s an excellent place to wander and refresh yourself. Even in the depths of winter you’ll find some hardy folk along with their canine companions walking the ring or brivetting about in the undergrowth. It’s quiet seclusion also offers spectacular views in all directions covering the Downs, the sprawl of the south coast conurbation from Brighton to Bognor Regis and on a clear day you can even see the Seven Sisters to the east and the Isle of Wight to the west.

Hard to believe then that this was once one of the powerhouses of Neolithic industry in the UK. Though entered on TMA as an Iron Age hillfort it actually began it’s fantastically varied life as a source of raw flint in the Neolithic era and the south western area of the hill bears testimony to this with it’s hundreds of shallow, and sometimes enormous, pits. This ‘moon-cratered’ surface represents the backfilled shafts of flint mines dating back some 5000 years and although not visible today some of them were between 40-45 feet deep and gave onto galleries and chambers that sometimes connected to other shafts. Cissbury and the nearby Church Hill and, slightly further afield Harrow Hill and Blackpatch, were some of the primary sources of flint throughout the Neolithic period. Only the slightly later mines at Norfolk’s Grimes Graves were any significant rival. The quality of the flint mined here was obviously very high as mining continued well into the Bronze Age and tools created from the flint have been found across Britain and mainland Europe. Between the four Sussex locations there were probably in excess of 400 shafts. Some of these were the subject of a number of archaeological digs between Victorian times and as recently as the 1970s. The earliest interest for the Cissbury site comes from 1849 when the Reverend Edward Turner, addressing the Sussex Archaeological Society, stated confidently that the hollows were formed for ‘Druidical celebrations’ but didn’t specify what these might be! The first excavations were carried out in 1857 by George Irving, but he failed to get to the bottom of the pits both physically and metaphorically and interpreted them as ‘animal pens’ due to the finds he came across. In 1867 Colonel Augustus Lane Fox was the first person to suggest that the pits were associated with flint mining while investigating hillfort construction on the South Downs, but he too failed to fully excavate the mines to their actual bottoms. However, the discovery of shafts beneath the fort’s ramparts made them realise that the shafts pre-dated the Iron Age and discovery of a polished axe within the ring and to the east of the pits firmly planted the shafts in the Neolithic era. Ernest Willet, who in 1868 had been looking at similar features to Lane Fox on nearby Church Hill, began working at Cissbury in 1873 and was the first person to get to the bottom of a shaft after digging down 4.2m through the back-fill in one of the earlier excavated pits where he discovered a series of chambers and galleries. Sadly his site notes from the dig were lost. More diggers came and went for the next 60 years but one of the more interesting figures to explore Cissbury was a local working class self-taught archaeologist named John Pull. He’d already achieved notoriety in the area following his discoveries at Blackpatch in the early 1920s and suffered at the disparaging hands of the Worthing Archaeology Society for his methods and site recording procedures. Most of this was down to pure snobbery on the Society’s part and given the towns Conservative nature hardly surprising. He did however rejoin the Society in 1947, taking over as president in 1952 and started new works at Cissbury the same year which gave rise to the most comprehensive studies of the Cissbury mines ever undertaken. Sadly he was shot dead in a bank raid in 1960 while working as a security guard at the Durrington branch of Lloyds Bank. For further intriguing reading on the subject take a look at Miles Russell’s fascinating book ‘Flint mines in Neolithic Britain’ (Tempus Books, 2000).

These are a nice pair of possible bell barrows and are well protected from farm vehicles with short wooden posts surrounding them. They are both roughly 20 yards across by 6 feet in height and the southern of the pair shows obvious signs of having been excavated. They are sited on a slight rise from which the nearby Bradford Barrow can just be seen in the distance.
Grinsell lists these as Pamphill 1,2,3,4 and 4a – 3,4,and 4a are no longer visible – he couldn’t find 4a and 3 and 4 were only a foot in height. These have probably fallen victim to the plough in the 50 or so years since Grinsell saw them.
These are close to Badbury Rings hillfort and there are well marked bridle ways to and from the barrows and the rings.